The Reluctant Celebrity Read Online Free PDF Page A

his voice rise to the pitch of a 12-year old
choirboy. ‘I don’t even know anyone called Paul, or where the hell they got
this photo from,’ Guy added, staring at the picture of him and Juliet lounging
in the sun during their final summer together. It seemed a million years ago
now.
    Guy
tried unsuccessfully to push away the memories poking at the edge of his
mind.  
    ‘What’s
the big deal, it says here you got to number one, and congratulations by the
way,’ Debbie touched his arm, ‘but other than that, it’s not even about you.’
    ‘That’s
the point, Debs. It’s about Juliet.’
    ‘Well
have you phoned her to see if she’s okay?’
    ‘Come
off it. We haven’t spoken in five years and I’m just supposed to pick up the
phone and dial a random number on the off chance it’s hers? I have no idea how
to contact her. I wouldn’t know where to begin anyway. I still can’t believe
what an idiot I was for telling that journalist about her in the first place.
Does off the record not count for anything?’
    ‘Exactly
my point.’
    Guy
let his head fall against the soft cushioning of the headrest and closed his
eyes. ‘I’m sorry, what is your point?’ he mumbled, not liking the direction the
conversation seemed to be taking.
    ‘For
goodness sake, there have been hundreds of stories printed about you, most of
which have been total rubbish and you’ve always shrugged them off or had a good
laugh about it. Why are you letting this one get to you? Surely the extra
publicity is helping to sell your music?’ 
    ‘You
sound like Sonja. She acted like it was a lottery win when the first story came
out, “you can’t buy publicity like this”’ he added, replacing his faded South
Yorkshire tones with the mimicked squeak of his high-strung publicist.
    ‘So
you expect me to believe that you just happen to reveal some juicy details
about a relationship which you never talk about to anyone let alone to a
complete stranger just as your new career is taking off? A bit of a coincidence
don’t you think?’
    ‘What?
How can you even suggest…’ Guy let out a deep sigh, rubbing his hand against
the sandpaper of his day old dark stumble. It tickled against the coarse edges
of his fingertips, dry and rough from so many hours spent plucking the strings
of his guitar. 
    He
tried again to explain, ‘Look it was an accident okay? We were in my flat, just
me and the journalist. The interview was over. We were sifting through photos
of my old playing days and one of Juliet cropped up. I should have just said
she was an old friend, but something about seeing her face again, it sparked
something in my stupid head and I just started blabbing. She stole the picture
too. I mean how rude is that?’
    Debbie
paused for a moment, sniffing the air. ‘If you’ll excuse me, there is now a
worse smell in the air than you.’ She pushed herself to her feet, resting a
hand against the small of her back and letting out an exhausted sigh. 
    ‘Come
on Sammy, let’s get that nappy changed and have a little nap, and then mummy
will take you to see the ducks.’
     ‘Duck,’
Sam repeated allowing Debbie to guide his tired legs towards the door.
    ‘Oh right, so he can say duck perfectly but he can’t
say Guy,’ he mumbled, unable to conceal a smile at Sam’s quacking noises.
    At the door, Debbie turned back to the sofa, ‘Just one
other thing - if this wasn’t just a stunt then did you mean what you said?’
    ‘I…err…’ Guy spluttered, their eyes locking as
Debbie’s eyebrows shot to the middle of her forehead. 
    ‘I’ll let you think about that one shall I?’ she cut
in, leaving Guy alone with her question still ringing in his ears.
    Did he mean it?
    The emotions had felt real enough when he’d spoken
about them to that bloody journalist. But every time he tried to conjure the
same feelings it left his stomach in knots; hardly the most concrete
declaration of love, he conceded running his hand over the short